


120 seconds to you and beyond

by awkwardedgeworth



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Miscommunication, Turnip Stonks, akaashi babysitting and wrangling everyone during camp, training camp arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-16
Updated: 2020-06-16
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24754402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardedgeworth/pseuds/awkwardedgeworth
Summary: Konoha pinches the bridge of his nose, "So you're telling me that the reason you and Bokuto kiss pre-game is not because you both are a secret couple or have feelings for each other but because itcalms him down enough that he can play on court?""Yes."
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 25
Kudos: 672





	120 seconds to you and beyond

"Are you going to be okay?" Sarukui frowns. 

They're all encircling Bokuto, Shinzen across the net. Bokuto had grown paler and paler on the bus ride to the gym, missing a few warm up tosses and performing badly in general. 

The opposing team thinks it's all part of their plan, jeering at them to stop pretending that they're in bad form. Akaashi feebly wishes that was true.

"Fine! I'm just fine!" Which is code for _not fine_ in Bokuto words. The third years all look at each other with various degrees of concern and side-eyeing before turning to him.

"Come here, Bokuto-san," He calls, tugging the captain into the hallways. Coach pays this no mind, having seen it a few times already, and only barks at them to come back on time. 

Akaashi takes Bokuto around the maze of hallways until they've hit the changing room, lockers locked and benches empty of bags and bodies.

"Sorry about this," Bokuto mumbles as Akaashi crowds him near the door of the room and flicks the lock into place.

"Don't worry about it," Akaashi says, feeling Bokuto's very warm hands on his waist as they both lean in for a kiss.

Entering high school, the last thing he would expect from Fukurodani was to find out that their volatile ace has nervous breakdowns right before games and needs a little perking up. The number twelve player (straight out of a manga about high school sports, the very definition of an unshakable protagonist everyone roots for) had been boisterous and energetic and Akaashi thought it wouldn't be too bad if he chose Fukurodani Academy after all.

And now somehow he's here, making out with his captain before every single game to calm his nerves because it was either this or a very volatile Bokuto that gets out of hand.

Bokuto nips his bottom lip and Akaashi opens his mouth, keeping count.

They tried not kissing once before a game and it had gone awry, involving a ball spiked into Coach's face and Bokuto completely sinking into dejected mode, so really, this is the most strategic choice.

The best length to calm Bokuto's nerves is to kiss for a solid three minutes. One minute does nothing and in fact riles Bokuto up even further, two minutes negates his nervousness but increases his chances of forgetting how to cross spike and three was the sweet spot.

The entire team thinks Akaashi is a hypnotist when they all start wondering where he's dragging Bokuto off to. There were offerings made in front of his locker back in Fukurodani's club room, a packet of chips, mostly sweets, sometimes a bottle of Pocari Sweat for his hard work.

_118...119...120...._

He leans his head back slightly, slitting open his eyes to see Bokuto blush a cherry red, lips shiny, "Good?" His voice comes out rougher than he likes, so he clears it.

"Good," Bokuto takes a step back, swinging his shoulders in a circle. Akaashi smiles at the gesture, "Thanks a lot, Akaashi!"

Akaashi unlocks the door and gesture for him to go ahead, following like a dutiful vice-captain. All in a day's work. And now he'll just have to monitor his condition and completely pummel Shinzen and allow Bokuto post-game gloating rights when he teases Ogano across the net.

They speed walk back to the main court, "Do you mind doing all this, Akaashi?"

"Not at all," He replies coolly, getting side-tracked as he momentarily stops thinking about how good Bokuto's jumping form is the day before and hoping it could be replicated today, "Does it bother you, Bokuto-san?"

He supposes kissing for three minutes was a weird form of getting into one's groove, but Bokuto doesn't seem to care much. A kiss is a kiss, he repeats in his head. As long as Bokuto isn't sporting a cold sore and isn't sniffling from a cold, Akaashi sees no reason to stop.

"Nah," His captain says, eyeing him, "I'll buy you a popsicle later."

"Thank you, Bokuto-san."

"No problem! Let's get win this match okay, I need to rub it into Ogano's face before training camp starts!" He runs off ahead and jumps in the air, throwing both arms up.

It'd been raining the day they started kissing.

Bokuto had ran away during practice, frustrated that his crosses were saved, straights blocked. Coach was too busy giving pointers to a very nervous Onaga about his first game coming up so as vice-captain, he zipped up his jersey and accepted the transparent umbrella Suzumeda tossed his way, tucking it under his arm.

The heady scent of petrichor and the start on monsoon season hits his nose as he opens the doors.

He leaps past puddles, zipping through the school gates and jogging down the long set of stairs. If it were clear, he would stand at the top and appreciate the view as Fukurodani was built on a hill, but he doesn't. He only allows the wind to rip his hood off, feeling the flecks of water hit his skin, running past the empty school yard.

It's unseasonably cold for the start of the volleyball season. Even the rain felt like it was going to stay for more than a few hours, leeching color from around him. The grass, weeds and leaves seem less vibrant, the road a glistening grey, a dull rainbow appearing on the ground where a few drops of oil had landed.

He eventually finds Bokuto crouching near a tree and next to a waste bin and vending machine two streets away from school. He's cooing at something, the dark blue practice shirt darker around his shoulders and back. His hair is slowly losing its hold in the rain.

Akaashi slows down, huffing, "Bokuto-san, you shouldn't run off like that without telling us."

"Akaashi! Do you think Coach will let us take him in?" Bokuto gestures to the thing he's cooing at.

Akaashi looks down at the little bird blinking up curiously at them. It's still a fledgling of the garden variety kind, downy and round with several sleek feathers growing in chunks, trying to hop and beat its wings.

"It probably fell from the tree when it was trying to fly," Akaashi spots crumbs on the ground and wonders why Bokuto would carry cookies with him in his practice shorts. He looks up to see if the nearby tree has a nest. "Did you feed it, Bokuto-san?"

"I did! It looked hungry."

"Don't do that, we don't know if birds can digest cookies," He spots an empty nest nestled in the branches, pointing, "It probably fell from there."

Bokuto is about to scoop the bird up before freezing, "Wait! Will it imprint on me if I touch it? I think I saw something about that in a documentary once. Do you have a handkerchief, Akaashi?"

He doesn't have his phone on him to look up if that fact was true or not, so he gives Bokuto a crumpled napkin from the cafeteria he dug up from his jersey, watching the ace place the bird on top of someone's gate and scaling it.

"Be careful, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto walks across the low wall with confidence, feet at Akaashi's head level, bird in hand, "You fuss too much, Akaashi! I'm good at things with hand-eye coordination!" Akaashi watches as he sashays to the tree and proceeds to hold onto the trunk for balance as his arm stretches out, placing the bird on a fork below its nest.

"That should be good right?" He calls down, "I don't want to put it in there just in case the nest doesn't belong to it."

"I think so," He holds his hand to his face, the wind blowing off his hood every time he tries to put it back around his head, "At least the street cats can't see him."

Bokuto finishes cooing at the bird and runs on the wall, causing Akaashi to promptly have a heart attack, worried he'll lose his footing and break an ankle, "Bokuto-san! Don't do that!""

The ace launches himself off the gates, landing past Akaashi and beaming, "Where's the rest of the team?"

"Practicing, which we should be going back to," He says firmly. Bokuto's eyebrows, smile and shoulders wilt. 

"...I'm not feeling practice today," Bokuto scuffs the ground with his shoes. Akaashi winces inwardly, those were a new pair.

"Why?"

" _WHY?_ Because I keep getting blocked! By second years! And I'm the ace!"

"Aces have bad days. You overcome it with practice. How long do you think it took Ishikawa Yuki-san to get to where he is today?"

"Thousands of hours probably."

"Exactly," The rain is falling harder now, bouncing off the asphalt and soaking the tips of his shoes and socks. He feels his bangs clump together, a trail of water going down the back of his neck. Bokuto doesn't look any better, hair now lying completely flat, "You're not going to improve if you choose to run away. Come back with me, I'll stay longer so we can work on your spikes."

This is usually a tactic second year Bokuto would easily gobble up. Akaashi's concern grows when Bokuto doesn't respond to that, sighing at the ground. He steps forward and presses the button on Suzumeda's umbrella, listening to the rain bounce off the material.

"Bokuto-san?" He tries, voice softer.

"Hey Akaashi," Bokuto says lowly, looking up. A trail of water drips from his forehead down to the side of his nose, his eyes are dry and clear, "What if I get so nervous playing volleyball that I can't focus on anything anymore? What if I forget how to serve, how to receive and how to spike. What happens then?"

"You're still our ace."

"What if I don't remember how to play volleyball anymore?"

Akaashi reaches forward to tug Bokuto to to him, shuffling to the side. They watch a car to squeeze slowly through the narrow street. He waits until the car rumbles away before looking at Bokuto again, their faces close, "You'll still be our ace. We believe in you."

"And. And the nervousness?"

"We can work on that," He says, remembering the first time he was pulled onto court last year during Nationals. The pressure felt immense, "Everyone feels nervous, it's normal to feel that way, Bokuto-san."

"Right now I feel like there's a mass of bees in my stomach if I think of volleyball," Bokuto admits, looking down. Akaashi wishes he brought a towel with him, seeing Bokuto's shirt completely soaked in the upper chest and molding to his shoulders like second skin. He's probably cold too, having no jacket to protect his arms.

"Do you want to hear something Kuroo-san said to me earlier?"

"What is it?"

"He sent me an article about these two ice dancers who always hug before they perform. He says it allows them to breathe together and to remember to synchronize."

"Do they win?"

"He didn't say, that was the extent of his translation skills but we can look up the article later," Akaashi cradles the umbrella awkwardly between his arm and chest, extending both hands, "Care to try?"

Bokuto blinks at him, mouth parted, but he easily slips his hands into Akaashi's cold ones. 

Akaashi squeezes his hands, shuffling even closer and letting the umbrella sway slightly in the rain. He watches water droplets fall from the metal tips, slipping one hand out of Bokuto's hold to curl around his shoulders in a half hug. 

He tries to remember what else Kuroo had said about the article, matching his breathing with Bokuto's, finding it hard to focus with the umbrella poking into his chest.

"H-Hey..."

He turns his head slightly to meet Bokuto's red cheeks, his ankles cold and wet from the rain, watching water run down the ivy plant crawling up the brick gate they're next to, an orange tabby peeking out of a blue-purple hydrangea bush.

Bokuto is tall and warm. His eyes are so bright. Akaashi can feel his chest expand and exhale with them pressed so close together. 

He swallows, catching Bokuto's own throat clicking. 

"Yes?"

Bokuto squeezes the one hand he's still holding onto, the other one working the umbrella out from where Akaashi is cradling it between his arm and chest. He dips his head down, eyes intense and unmoving.

Later, he'll wonder what possessed him to tilt his head up, wondering if it's the pull of an ace or forces from the other side.

Automatically, Akaashi tilts his chin up, eyes sliding shut.

Their mouths meet, softly, carefully.

Akaashi feels his heart leaping up his throat, Bokuto's mouth moving clumsily, his cold nose pressing against his. The world could end right now and he wouldn't notice, paying attention to the way his knees are weak, both of them swaying, Bokuto's other hand circling around his waist tightly. He mimics the movement of Bokuto's mouth, gripping onto his shoulders for balance.

Bokuto's throat clicks again and they both lean back, face absolutely red. Akaashi looks deep into his eyes, clearing his throat before he suddenly feels shy. 

"Good?" He asks the ground. He looks up, remembering who he's speaking to.

Bokuto nods, face still red. He extracts his hand away from Akaashi's waist, scratching his cheek, "Good. Definitely good.... Like I could spike until the day ends. Your offer is still up?"

"Of course."

Bokuto smiles bashfully at him. Akaashi curls one corner of his mouth up, allowing his hand to fall from his shoulders.

"Hmm," Akaashi frowns, entering Shinzen's gym as the last members of the Fukurodani Group assemble. They've arrived on time though he mildly remembers something about another school being invited.

"Something the matter?" Komi asks as Bokuto runs straight to Kuroo, Kenma flinching and scrambling away when the two starts wrestling each other on the ground. Taketora joins the fray and Yaku starts lecturing.

"I really hope he doesn't get nervous for practice matches," He hadn't thought of it much, having woken up fifteen minutes late and barely making the sprint to the school bus in total darkness. If Bokuto gets nervous for practice matches, there would be a lot of diversion he needs to make to ensure that the bathrooms are not occupied at all during their three minute sessions.

But all in all, Bokuto's nervousness has improved. They've gone days without kissing and Bokuto routinely wins practice matches against schools in the other Tokyo region with only the team's words to soothe him.

"You two prefer somewhere quiet right?"

"Yes."

"Leave it to your senpais!" Komi vigorously slaps his shoulder, beaming. Akaashi thanks him, glad to distribute his problem as Konoha drags Bokuto away by the ankles. 

They start warm ups, Akaashi sending his first prayer to whatever god is listening when Bokuto gives him _the look_ , making up a story about his bladder and tugging Bokuto away as his teammates distract Nekoma. 

Kuroo raises his eyebrows at them suspiciously when they come back but Akaashi maintains a perfect poker face, staring back at Kuroo until he looks away.

"You never get nerves for practice matches," He softly points out, rubbing his towel around his neck as Nekoma does a round of flying seals. Everyone wearing the same navy blue t-shirt as him is guzzling water and trying to catch their breath.

Bokuto's hair droops, "I..."

"Never mind, it's fine if you do," Akaashi soothes him, hoping to avoid a potential loss of Bokuto's perfect game condition. They have another match right after this anyway. He nudges Bokuto outside into the hallway with their water bottles, wanting to refill them themselves and find an empty classroom.

"Sometimes when I look at Kuroo, I feel like he has x-ray vision and can read my thoughts," Bokuto reaches out his hand. Akaashi gives his water bottle to him, watching the faucet spray specks of water onto Bokuto's hand. His forearms are slightly red from receives and spikes, but it's nothing he never sees.

"I don't think that's how x-rays work, Bokuto-san. What you're thinking of is the ability to read minds, it's called telepathy."

"Reading minds would be an interesting technique wouldn't it? You can read your opponent's move! I wouldn't need to study so hard for school!"

"People like Kuroo-san would probably pick out that you're reading his mind and then try to confuse you by thinking something else entirely," Akaashi adds under his breath, "He's the type anyway."

Bokuto laughs, "Hey hey that's true!" Their bottles get capped and they immediately locate an empty classroom by the water fountains, shutting doors. 

Akaashi places their bottles on the ground, watching sunlight beam in from the gaps between the door and floor, barely enough light coming in to see the legs of the tables from the shut curtains. He can see outlines of props, wigs and boxes lining the wall. This must be the drama classroom.

"Um ready whenever you are," Bokuto's voice comes out sounding strangled. Akaashi supposes there's really no way to let each other know that they're ready to make out for three minutes without making it sound slightly awkward, no matter how many times they've done this.

He could see the beads of sweat still gathered at Bokuto's temples as he leans in, closer and closer. Bokuto places his hands around his waist, shutting his eyes, staying still. Akaashi holds one of his wrist to balance himself before leaning up the slightest bit to press their mouths together.

Bokuto had always painted a very brash picture in his head, the confident spiker, loud captain, bright-eyed senpai, a protagonist of a novel you can't help but root for. It's in the earnest way he talks, the gestures of his hands, his sunny personality and hundred watt smiles.

Akaashi nibbles gently on his bottom lip, starting the count in his head. His waist feel like they're on fire, Bokuto's hand clutched around them firmly like a lifeline as he threads the other one through Akaashi's damp hair. For all that he's brash on and off court, Bokuto kisses him very gently, only copying his movements if Akaashi started it first.

He chants to himself to keep this very platonic because never in a million years would Bokuto like him when he has the likes of Kuroo and Konoha around him.

And he intends on keeping it that way.

_"Good?"_

_"Good."_

Nekoma is a riot tonight. They've finally won a match and are traipsing around, gloating and rubbing it in everyone's face (Kuroo, Taketora and Lev) with Yaku kicking their shins repeatedly to stop.

"No," Akaashi firmly says before Bokuto could open his mouth, left hand clamped onto his wrist as Kuroo dances past, hollering about how he's the best, "Don't do anything rash."

"But Akaashi! It's training camp! We were suppose to have extended practice and I have all of this unused energy, what am I suppose to do with it?"

"Please store those unused energy until they clean Gymnasium 3 out and wait patiently until tomorrow."

Bokuto vibrates with anger, brows pulled down. He turns whiny, wanting to settle the argument with Kuroo that Fukurodani is _totally, one hundred percent, way way better!_ with an arm wrestling match. Akaashi and Konoha make eye contact at each other across the table.

_What's the worst he can do?_ Konoha says with a raise of his eyebrows.

_I suppose you're right_ , Akaashi releases his hold on Bokuto's wrist, allowing his ace to shoot out of his seat. He goes back to his dinner (a simple but delicious beef curry with miso soup, potato and corn croquettes and watermelons) and ignores the chaos that is the huddle involving both captains of the loudest schools, Hinata and the Karasuno libero watching the match with interest.

"500 yen that Bokuto wins," Sarukui says happily, next to Akaashi. He steals one of Bokuto's chunks of meat. Yaku is yelling at Kuroo and Bokuto to stop screeching. Shirofuku, Suzumeda and the manager of Nekoma are pretending to not see the chaos behind them.

"No bet," Konoha rolls his eyes, deflecting Komi from picking at Bokuto's plate, "He'll win. Do you see the size of his arms against weedy Kuroo? And stop taking his food, he's going to wake up at one in the morning and cry for snacks. Do you _have_ snacks to spare, Komi?"

"Oh hell no! He's not touching my shrimp chips!"

Akaashi sighs, scooping out his beef chunks into Bokuto's plate to placate his teammates as the crowd a table over roars. Bokuto emerges victorious, puffing out his chest proudly. He can't help but think of weird animal mating rituals and males establishing dominance over each other like in the documentary he watched last weekend.

Komi starts a conversation with him about Akaashi's less than stellar grades in Japanese Literature. Akaashi tries to explain to him how he enjoys Kinomoto-sensei as a teacher but not the topic of the subject itself.

Now the two idiot captains are trying to see who can chest bump the best. Yaku is throwing Akaashi helpless glances like he should come here right now and help him tear the two chaotic children apart.

"Don't go," Konoha laughs, "It's funnier if you don't."

"We have a match with Karasuno in the morning anyway, it's okay if Bo gets a little down. They're still a new team trying to figure out their dynamics," Sarukui jumps in, offering Akaashi one of his two croquettes. Akaashi takes it with a grateful dip of his head.

"HEY TEAM!" Bokuto hollers above the hubbub of voices. Akaashi looks up from his croquette, about to bite down on it, before his eye twitches, "LOOK AT ME!"

"Why is he shirtless," Konoha laments.

"Go get him," Komi sighs, rising out of his seat, "I'll help you."

"Thank you," Akaashi mumbles, stepping away from his food.

Kuroo proves to be a difficult opponent to convince, trying to talk Akaashi into joining them. There's already a red mark on Kuroo's chest. Yaku, for all of his yelling and arm tugging, only manages to pull Kuroo away from the circle for several inches.

Akaashi glances at the clock on the wall. He deserves a good soak and he'll kill Kuroo for cutting into his bath time if this continues. He doesn't care if skin-to-skinship is scientifically proven to promote good well being because he's pretty sure Kuroo is talking about that in regards to neonates and their mothers, not third years who are trying to knock each other down.

"Sounds fake but okay."

"My father is an OBGYN," Akaashi gives him a tight smile, "You should research your facts more carefully, Kuroo-san."

"Oho. What's the matter Akaashi?" Kuroo leers at him. Bokuto is whipping his shirt over his head in a circle, cajoling Hinata and Nishinoya to clap for him, "Did I hit a sore spot? Did you run out of ideas and realize that Bo is unstoppable?"

Akaashi gives him an angelic smile, going off to the Nekoma table to find Kenma. He asks if he could pretend to sniff and look miserable for several minutes, long enough to switch Kuroo from chaos mode to mother hen mode.

"You're devious," Kenma lowly replies, looking up from his game of Animal Crossing. Akaashi promises to exchange friend codes with him and visit his island later when it's time to sleep, "But okay, what fruits do you have?"

"Peaches. I also have the ironwood kitchenette recipe."

Kenma grins, "Cool. Okay, I'll go over there now."

> Entropy (19:02): i heard you're opening your island to kenma? D:

> Entropy (19:02): can i come and sell some stonks

> Entropy (19:03): i have 37 oranges i can give you
> 
> Entropy (19:03): my turnips are 53 bells pls help a man out

> Me (19:03): die

Akaashi leans his head against the tub, amazed that Shinzen had enough funds to have one in their locker rooms for seven gangly teenagers to squish in.

Granted they can't exactly move without elbowing each other in the ribs, but after a day of corralling Bokuto and running around, Akaashi is content on sitting where he is until they have to go out and let Karasuno soak after them.

The third years are discussing about their new English teacher, supposedly sent personally from whatever ninth circle of hell there was, dishing them all the largest stack of homework assignments they've ever seen over summer break.

Akaashi is just about finishing a conversation with Onaga about a new onigiri shop he found in Toshima City when a hand laces in his under the opaque water and starts massing the bones of his wrist.

He stills.

Bokuto hums a little, not paying attention to Akaashi, but opening his mouth to reply to something Sarukui had said. His fingers are still working over his wrist carefully in a continuous motion, pressing gently.

"...You bought...?" Onaga coaxes.

"I bought the curry cheese and mentaiko. It's very good, you should try anything on their menu," He resumes his thoughts, staring down at the opaque water and wondering if anyone could see what Bokuto is doing. 

"How's that?" Bokuto whips around and blinks at him. Akaashi tries not to flinch from the sudden move. Everyone stops talking.

"How is _what?_ " Konoha looks at the water and with a grey face.

Bokuto holds up his right hand, continuing to massage it with an innocent expression. The steam from the tub is wilting his hair. Akaashi tries not to stare too much at the water droplets collecting around Bokuto's collarbones, running down his shoulders and upper chest and back.

"Wrist massage."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Bokuto," Sarukui comments. Washio blinks neutrally. Konoha looks relieved, running his hand so his bangs stick up.

"Ehehe," Bokuto giggles, squirming close to Akaashi and manhandling him with ease. Akaashi lets out a yelp at being picked up several inches out of the water, plopped unceremoniously between Bokuto's legs as he now sits in the middle of the tub. Bokuto then starts rubbing his shoulders, "Kuroo says Kenma often gets tight shoulders here, so he and Yaku take turns rubbing them sometimes."

Akaashi has working ears, but he tenses more as Bokuto's hand try to snap his bones. He pinches one particular spot and Akaashi sees black, relaxing immediately and blinking when the tightness disappears.

Komi rolls his eyes, a white towel folded neatly on top of his head, "Oh my god, I know what you mean! I get tight muscles too. Can anyone platonically rub my calves?"

Bokuto's voice booms across Akaashi's back, their skin occasionally touching. He wants to die. He definitely wants to push Komi into the tub and hold him until he drowns to wipe off the smug smirk directed his way, "Konoha maybe? You have nice setter hands Konoha. Not that you're better than Akaashi, of course!"

"Oh," Konoha flutters his lashes, "I wouldn't _dream_ of being better than Akaashi. We all know he's your favorite, Captain. By the way, are you okay, Akaashi? You look a little red there."

"I'm _fine_ —" He tries to ground out.

"Red?" Bokuto yelps, swiveling and smooshing Onaga accidentally against the wall, "You've been in here for too long! Let's go, I'll help you up!"

"I'm fine!" Bokuto bats his arms away and does a ducking motion. 

One minute Akaashi is sitting in blissfully warm opaque water and the next he's on Bokuto's shoulders in a fireman's carry. Bokuto holds onto his waist carefully, stepping out of the tub and placing him onto the cooler tiles. The entire first stringers save for Onaga and Washio leer at them, putting their heads onto the edges of the tub.

"Got your footing?" Bokuto asks him, tall, intimidating, and an absolute idiot. Akaashi feels his entire face burn, wondering why Bokuto has so much skin and why he's so large. He doesn't care if Bokuto drops him, but he's not looking down to check his feet.

"I'm fine. Please let go of me, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto releases his waist. Akaashi goes to rinse himself underneath the shower with extremely cold water, listening to the tittering behind him. He'll definitely suffocate Konoha in his sleep when it's time for lights out.

"Ah shoot, ten more minutes until Karasuno comes in," Komi points out to the clock in the corner of the room. They all groan, half of them rising out of the water to shuffle and rinse off. Konoha stays in the water though, spreading out now that they're not pressing their legs and arms together like commuters during rush hour.

They clear the baths with several more minutes to spare, opting to wait outside and get drinks while Washio tries to put his clothes on with bleary eyes.

"Soaking after a day of practice really is the best!" Bokuto cheers, everyone around him with various stages of wet hair.

"Oh yea, soaking is definitely the best. I sure love soaking in the water with my friends," Konoha airily says.

"Why are you so snarky today, Konoha?" Bokuto snorts. His hair is half dried, the tips droopy with water. "Here, pass this to Akaashi."

"Wow, where's mine?"

"You have your own money."

Konoha swipes the offered green tea out of Bokuto's hand, tossing it to Akaashi. Akaashi breaks the seal and sips it as they see Washio stumble out, towel around his neck, listening to his senpais squabble with each other. Bokuto thought the spectacle during dinner was hilarious and they should all have an arm wrestling match one day. Konoha vehemently disagrees.

They bump into the managers from every school on the way back to the first floor classrooms carrying bags from the nearby conbini. Shirofuku tells them that they're sleeping on the second floor and are preparing snacks for tomorrow, so please shoo and not peek.

"And Coach says not to make trouble," Shirofuku directs this to Akaashi, who nods and internally sighs, "Night."

"Good night," He bows his head at her, watching her and Suzumeda shuffle away in the direction of the cafeteria. He rounds everyone from Fukurodani all in the classroom and gives the first years instructions on folding out the futons.

He drags two furthest away from the door and places them in the corner away from everyone, watching Bokuto sulk. He looks shorter with his horns down.

"Even this year?"

"Of course."

"You've given me bruises!" Komi pipes up, "You both are terrible. You guys can kick each other in your sleep, but stay away from the rest of us."

"I can't believe this is how my team treats me," Bokuto huffs, dragging his bag that's already spilling items on the floor to the corner. Akaashi watches as a spare towel, several crinkled English assignments, a bottle of hair gel, three knee pads and a lump that looks a spare set of court shoes in a plastic bag tumble out.

He claps his hands together, projecting his voice, "Lights out at 10. Breakfast starts at 7 and ends at 7:45, then we'll all meet in the Gym 1 for warm ups and directions from Coach."

They all reply "Yes, Akaashi!" with various levels of sleepiness. Akaashi goes to the wall and dims the lights halfway, jealous that Shinzen even has dimmable lights installed in their classrooms.

The third years join their corner to moan and get through English together, propping several phone flashlights to illuminate their papers. Akaashi pulls out his Animal Crossing and texts Kenma to see if he's free right now to play. He sips his green tea intermittently until his eyes grew heavy.

When he puts his console away, the third years seem to gotten the message without much fuss, crawling away to join the other members of the team. Akaashi flicks the lights out and pads blindly to the side of the classroom, wiggling into his futon as he and Bokuto make themselves comfortable.

"Neighbors again for the second year in a row," Bokuto laments quietly.

"Please don't kick my back this time, Bokuto-san."

Bokuto grins, enough light coming in from the little gaps of the black out curtains installed that Akaashi can see his teeth shine in the dark, "No guarantees. Today was fun, wasn't it? Even if we didn't get to practice on our own like we did last year."

He agrees with a quiet _mhm_ , listening to several people mumble, barely heard over the muffled sounds of cicadas screaming outside.

There's a shuffling next to him.

"You're going to be a good Captain," Even Bokuto, the ever loud and brash ace, can speak quietly. Akaashi feels a distant pang of discomfort. Graduation is still a long ways to go but he knows how quickly a year can pass.

"It's not guaranteed."

"I think Coach is dumb if he doesn't make you Captain. You have my vote anyway," Bokuto yawns, "Night, Akaashi."

"Good night, Bokuto-san," He drifts asleep, lulled by the cool sheets of the futon and twenty or so club members snoring in the same room as him.

He dreams of Bokuto's bare chest, jolting awake in the middle of the night. His blankets had been tugged on slightly, an arm weighing on his chest. Someone's hair is pressing against his chin.

He shuts his eyes, too tired to roll Bokuto off.

In the morning, he snaps his eyes open to see Konoha grin at him, tucking his phone away as Bokuto curls around him, snoring softly in his ear.

_Cute_ , his eyebrows seem to say.

"Help me get him off," He orders crankily, neck stiff in odd places and waist sore. He bets that's a fresh bruise. 

Konoha complies, whipping the blanket off Bokuto with a too excited grin and pressing an ice pack on Bokuto's foot, causing his eyes to shoot wide open.

"COLD!"

"Whatcha thinkin about?"

Akaashi looks up from his watermelon rind, sitting on the steps of the gymnasium as everyone else crowds around their respective managers for seconds. 

Bokuto holds out a fresh slice for him, munching on his own piece. They're going to have a barbecue in a couple of days, it's all everyone is talking about. Karasuno has a chant for it, their voices ominously rising.

Akaashi accepts it with a mumble of thanks, lowering his voice, "Just wondering what kind of excuses I can make. I've been running out."

"Kuroo doesn't care so you can stop announcing it to Nekoma."

Odd, "He doesn't?"

Bokuto nods very seriously, "He thinks I have IBS and you carry my meds in your pocket or something. I made up that lie and everything. Praise me!"

"...How fortunate," Akaashi doesn't completely buy the lie, knowing how sly Kuroo is. He should still think of reasons. "By the way, Bokuto-san—"

"Oh right, Konoha told me you got a bruise, sorry about that," Bokuto apologizes sheepishly, "I don't sleep well in strange places."

"That's alright, but perhaps we can move the futons away slightly so you're not pressed up right against me."

Bokuto turns pink, "I can do that, yeah."

Akaashi smiles, not looking at him in the eye. Sometimes when Bokuto wants to, he'll just look at Akaashi a certain way and know exactly what he's thinking.

And he really doesn't want to explain why he dreamt of his shirtless captain. They're friends, he reminds himself, Bokuto happens to be his senpai and Akaashi is his underclassman who's been given the honor of vice-captain. They have a strange pre-game ritual but it's none of everyone's business.

"Fukurodani! Come back in!" Coach hollers. 

Akaashi drops his rinds into the plastic bag Suzumeda is holding, going to wash his hands in the bucket of water someone had put out by the gym entrance. They're playing Karasuno next and Akaashi hovers in the sun, waiting as everyone clears out.

Bokuto checks for last stragglers before placing his hands on his waist, face red.

They kiss again for exactly three minutes. Akaashi's heartbeat is so loud that he's afraid Bokuto will hear it, staring into his amber eyes for a split second before his ears reddens. He's not sure how much longer he can keep this up because there's no way that this is good for his heart in the long run.

"Good?" Bokuto's voice comes out roughly. 

Akaashi nods, "Good. You?"

"I'm good," Bokuto says, the blush still hanging around his cheeks. He spins them both around the pillar to enter the gym, stumbling to a halt as Washio stares at them with wide eyes, half hidden.

"I...was just about to get you two," Washio seems at a loss for words. Akaashi feels the blood drain from his face, immediately clamping one hand like vice.

"We're—"

"It's fine," Washio reassures them, looking between Bokuto, who's making sounds like a choking owl and Akaashi, "I get it. I'll keep it quiet, I promise."

Akaashi releases his wrist slowly, hearing Coach holler for them, "If you could, thank you."

"No problem. Bokuto, do you need water?"

The team acts normally to him in spite Washio knowing. Akaashi sighs, shoving the thought away and glad that out of the team, it is Washio who found out. He has no time to explain himself however, being dragged to Bokuto's special extended practice every night and falling face first into his futon right before lights out.

After an excruciatingly sweaty sleep as he's sandwiched between Bokuto and the wall, Akaashi extracts himself out of the cocoon of blankets and tip toes away to the bathrooms first thing in the morning, seeing the sun already peek out of the gentle slopes with birds chirping madly.

He mumbles a good morning to Tsukishima, who politely greets him back and saunters out of the bathroom, a freckled face boy at his heels. Akaashi splashes cold water on his face and wonders if he could sleep in another classroom away from Bokuto's kicking tendencies. 

He'll need to have a talk with the ace about boundaries and why being pinned down to his futon with his heavy leg and arm is not a desirable way to wake up even though it felt nice.

"A-Akaashi-san!"

"Morning, Hinata," He says to the sink, splashing more water and patting his face dry with the towel around his neck. Hinata's face is a curious shade of red that clashes horrifically with his hair, gripping his Happiny face cloth with a death grip.

"U-Um if you d-don't mind me a-asking," Hinata is purple at this point. Akaashi hasn't blinked once, not sure what the first year is getting at, " _A-Are you and B-B-B-Bokuto-san in a relationship?!_ "

Akaashi stares at him, mind spinning in all directions and the weak excuses he can make and wondering which ones Hinata will buy.

Hinata starts sweating profusely. Akaashi decides to act dumb, a tactic Bokuto favors.

"I'm afraid I don't understand."

It comes out of Hinata like a popped bubble. Fukurodani was up against Ubugawa yesterday, and it turns out Hinata had been hiding in one of the stalls rubbing his stomach when Akaashi and Bokuto stumbled in, proceeded to _not check all of the stalls for intruders_ and give Hinata the biggest shock of his life when he peeped out.

"I forgot about my stomach after that though..." Hinata mumbles, finally gathering enough courage to look at Akaashi in the eye. 

He sighs. Hinata stands up straighter again, looking like a mouse that has ran across a cat. Akaashi smooths the frown from his forehead, knowing he has a scary face when he's irritated. 

He wonders if Hinata could keep quiet. He personally thinks he's a bad liar and as such he never has much practice with it, preferring to be honest with everyone.

(Except for the lie about Bokuto. He's good at keeping that one off his face.)

"That's...just Bokuto-san's and my routine for pre-game matches, don't worry about it."

Hinata blinks, "Oh. Okay then," He looks like he has more questions, but Akaashi is thankful that they spend the next few minutes brushing their teeth in silence. 

He escapes the bathroom quickly, hoping that no one is up this early so he can slowly wake up with a cup of tea in his hands when he runs into Konoha outside, eye bags prominent.

"I have so many questions," Konoha hoarsely greets, half his hair sticking up from where he's pressed it against his pillow.

Akaashi looks at the ceiling, sighing, "I'm sure you do."

Konoha drags him to the vending machines, arms crossed as Akaashi begins to explain the time Bokuto ran away from practice, the article Kuroo sent him earlier in the day when they were talking about the winter Olympics, the hug that turned into a platonic kiss, the way Bokuto seemed to improve afterwards, butterflies gone from his stomach.

Konoha pinches the bridge of his nose, "So you're telling me that the reason you and Bokuto kiss pre-game is not because you both are a secret couple or have feelings for each other but because _it calms him down enough that he can play on court?_ "

"Yes."

"What the _fuck?_ " Konoha sharply inhales, "That's the dumbest shit I've ever heard and I'm in _Bokuto's_ class."

Akaashi understands that the news might come as a shock to his team. He _has_ been lying to them since the new school year started so he puts on his best soothing voice, "He's been in top condition lately. We worked very hard on his crosses and straights."

"Blah blah blah top condition aside, I can't believe you're not a hypnotist!" Konoha accuses him, "I can't believe you both are hiding it from us!"

"It's an odd tactic, I wasn't sure if everyone would understand the benefits," Akaashi fiddles with his fingers, "Bokuto-san decided to keep it quiet so I followed his lead. I'm sorry if our actions offended you."

Konoha runs his hands over his hair, making it stand up even more, "Akaashi! You've been making out with Bokuto for months!"

"You find it weird," He points out.

"And you don't?"

"I find that the benefits outweigh everything odd," He says. He sees a few people shuffle out of the classrooms at the other end of the hallway, Kenma's hair distinct as he shuffles groggily towards the bathroom, Kuroo batting away Lev as he yawns, "And anyway, a kiss is just a kiss."

Konoha looks at him carefully, parroting. He looks oddly upset, "' _A kiss is just a kiss?'_ "

"Yes?"

"You know who kisses? Couples. _My_ parents. _Your_ parents. It's a sign of affection and love!"

"We platonically kiss, I'm sure it happens, people just don't talk about it."

Konoha looks like he's an inch from gripping Akaashi around the shoulders and shaking him, "Are you stupid?! The poor guy has the fattest crush on you!"

Akaashi laughs, "He doesn't."

"Do you see him giving us wrist massages? Wrapping himself like an octopus around the closest living thing in his sleep? Buying us snacks?" There are tears in his eyes; Konoha wails, "He walks to your house before and after practice, brings you extra onigiris when you both stay late at school and gives you his old notes from second year!"

"It's a mutualistic relationship. Like the bees and flowers," Akaashi doesn't blink once, calmly speaking. He can never give himself hope, because it's hard to squish down. This, he knows because he's been disappointed by hope in middle school, "And I'm bad at Japanese Literature. You, Sarukui-san, Washio-san and Komi-san have given me your notes too, so I appreciate his help."

Konoha puts his head his hands and screams. A beam of sunlight peers through the clouds and lights his head, turning the color from dirty blond to a white blond. The entire hallway brightens with the arrival of the sun.

"Washio-san didn't react this way when he found out."

"Washio found out? And that lil fucker kept it from me?" Konoha snaps his head up. Akaashi feels sliver of fear run down his spine, blinking madly. For a second, Konoha's eyes had looked red, "Oh I am going to have a few _words_ with him later."

"Konoha-san, please don't spread it. I don't think it's fair to Bokuto-san."

Konoha sighs, rubbing his temples, "Poor Bokuto. I can't believe you're this ruthless to him."

Akaashi frowns, gripping his toiletry set, "I'm not ruthless."

"You so are! Who the hell kisses their crush for months on end and says that it's all platonic? You're stringing along his feelings."

"There _are_ no feelings," Akaashi replies heatedly, he doesn't take it well when he's wrongly accused. "Bokuto-san never said anything of that nature to me."

"Even if he didn't, you're blind for not seeing how he hopelessly will drop everything for you!" Konoha shouts, "God! You're so!— _UGH!_ " He exclaims, walking away from Akaashi. 

"Konoha-san?" Akaashi stares after him, open mouthed, watching his figure disappear into the main hallway. Konoha turns at the last minute, giving him a tense smile.

"You can be so cruel, you know?"

Fukurodani loses all of their morning matches in a spectacular upset that leave everyone shocked. Akaashi was in too much of a bad mood to pick up Bokuto's dejected mode, Konoha was distracted and the entire team felt like someone had mashed random players together. 

After countless laps of flying seals, Coach is frowning at them and asking them why they played badly.

When no one would speak up, he dismisses them to go to lunch with a tired hand.

Kenma singles him out with a look and they take their trays outside, watching Hinata and Kageyama run around nearby to practice. 

Fluffy white clouds roll past the sun. The summers in Saitama are cooler than Tokyo. Kenma is quietly playing his mobile games as Akaashi prods his udon noodles with his chopsticks, letting them sit in the broth.

Akaashi's brain is reeling with the games they lost. He forgot how much support Konoha gives the team with his mastery. The team visibly needs Konoha and Akaashi to be on speaking terms if they were going to win the afternoon rounds and not become the laughing stock of training camp.

"Your number seven doesn't seem to be playing well," Kenma says. He groans when the dragon defeats his avatar, putting his phone back into his pocket.

"We're fighting."

"I can tell. You weren't sending him any tosses."

Akaashi frowns, he thought he tried to distribute them fairly even with the resentment he felt from Konoha, "Oh. I'll keep that in mind."

"What was the fight about?"

"He accused me of being blind to Bokuto-san's feelings when I told him there's nothing going on between us."

Kenma is silent. They listen to Kageyama scream himself hoarse at Hinata for spiking the ball into a puddle of mud, "There isn't? I always thought there was something going on between you two."

Akaashi turns to him, watching Kenma tuck a lock of hair behind his ears, "Good friends," He emptily says. He's lied to himself with this exact same sentence many times, "We're just good friends. Does it seem otherwise?"

"I can tell he really cares for you. Even Kuroo doesn't hover around me like that during practice, and he's Kuroo," Kenma arches an eyebrow, "Number seven seems to think there's something more going on too."

"It's a misunderstanding."

"Then you should fix it, shouldn't you?"

"Yes," Akaashi sighs, carrying up his tray, "I should speak to him and get all of this cleared up before lunch ends."

Kenma nods. They enter the cafeteria together to see the entire Karasuno team sans their first quick set duo swiveling to them. Akaashi looks ahead to see Kuroo standing next to Bokuto, one hand on his shoulder, Konoha glaring at Bokuto across the table. 

Gora, Ogano, and Sawamura are standing at the edge of the circle, looking at each other and wondering if they should step in with the managers hovering nearby.

"What are they doing?" He mumbles.

Sugawara turns to him, worried, "Fighting about something. They started yelling just now."

"Please excuse me," Akaashi places his tray on the Karasuno table, marching through the captains and grabbing Bokuto's hand, tugging him away. Bokuto reared up at first, but falls silent when he sees Akaashi, allowing himself to be lead out. 

They find an isolated hallway away from the cafeteria and gyms. Akaashi wants to touch Bokuto's elbow, knowing how responsive he is with soothing rubs, but he refrains thanks to Konoha's voice echoing in his head, "Is something the matter, Bokuto-san?"

"No, Konoha's just being stupid, he called me an idiot too but it's fine, it has nothing to do with your setting today," Bokuto blinks before gasping and slapping his hand to his mouth, eyes wide.

Akaashi isn't surprised, knowing that today's fatal mistake had given Coach thoughts about training one of their first year setters for first string early, "It's alright, I'm fully aware that my setting sucked today."

"They're still really good," Bokuto tries to placate him, fidgeting, "I still really like your tosses even if it hit my head half the time today—"

"I'll play better later, my emotions just got the best of me," He promises.

"Oh. Were you nervous, had wasps in your stomach and felt like you wanted to throw up?"

"No," Akaashi says, being led down to a vending machine as Bokuto pulls out some coins from his pockets. He watches Bokuto select two cold boxes of milk, "Nothing like yours. Konoha-san and I just got into a disagreement earlier in the morning. Thank you."

Bokuto blinks once. He loses his childish outburst and looks like a proper senpai, eyebrows pulling down and face curiously devoid of any emotions, "About what?"

Akaashi nervously swallows, "Don't mind, it's nothing."

"Akaashi, tell me," Bokuto says. He's not whining or throwing a tantrum, but he is inching closer and closer, "I'm Captain, I might be able to help. And I want to help you because you've helped me out a lot."

He's read enough books and mangas to know that he stands at a cross road. Ignore this and he'll have to work hard to stitch the rift he and Konoha caused earlier. 

But if he tells Bokuto, he would probably laugh it off. Akaashi would nurse a broken heart but things will probably be fine again. Bokuto doesn't know how he feels, thankfully. There are a million fishes in the sea after all.

"Konoha-san called me cruel," He says quietly, fiddling with a hangnail. Bokuto looks oddly bare without his signature long knee pads, having taken them off for lunch, "Because he found out about our pre-game routine and said I was stringing you along for feelings you never had for me."

"Oh."

Akaashi nods to Bokuto's shoes, poking the straw through and taking a sip of milk, "I haven't been able to speak to him but I was about to when I came back and saw both of you standing. I wanted to explain myself that we're just very good friends."

He finally tilts his head up, looking at the tears swimming in Bokuto's eyes.

"B-Bokuto-san?"

Bokuto sniffs, one hand holding his milk, the other wiping the tears roughly away. There are fading bruises on his forearm, "Sorry. It's all my fault."

"I'm sorry?" He tries again, starting to get flustered, "Bokuto-san?"

His voice is wobbling, the shoulder of his dark blue shirt becoming darker and darker with each tear he wipes, "Hey hey, do you want to know something? I've been lying to you for a year now."

"What..." He trails off, "What do you mean?"

"I like you a lot, Akaashi," Bokuto mumbles, nose turning red. He looks down at their feet as Akaashi feels his mouth open, "I like so you much that I started getting nervous for practice because I don't want to look uncool in front of you. Konoha and Kuroo knew so I can see why he got angry at you because you didn't know this at all! It's my fault you and Konoha got into a fight."

He feels guilty for being happy when Bokuto continues to cry silently, digging out his handkerchief that's slightly damp from washing his hands and passing it forward. Bokuto dabs his eye on the limited edition Detective Conan print, opening his mouth.

"And then we started kissing and I thought oh okay maybe kisses for you are platonic, so I went along with it and it made it even harder when I think to myself about how much I'm lying," Bokuto babbles, sniffling and choking, "I— I just really like you. And I'm sorry, for stringing _you_ along with me. I'll— I have to apologize to the team and Coach and Konoha and Kuroo and—"

"Bokuto-san," He hurriedly squeezes Bokuto's wrist, voice high and thin, he sucks in a much needed breath, "I'm a liar too. I've liked you for a long time as well."

"You don't need to baby me, Akaashi," He pouts.

Akaashi squeezes his wrist harder, "I'm not _trying_ to making you feel better, this is actually how I feel."

Bokuto lets the last couple of tears escape, standing awkwardly in the hallway, "Oh."

" _I_ thought that you thought kissing me was completely platonic so I went along with it."

Bokuto gives him a baffled look, swallowing as his voice returns to semi-normal, "You're weird, Akaashi. Kisses happen between people who like each other."

"Yes, yes, everyone has established how weird I am," Akaashi huffs, watching Bokuto chuckle. He loosens his grip, hoping that he didn't make any new bruises on his arm. Bokuto only smiles widely at him, like Akaashi could be a young fluffy owl chick that had thrown up its dinner all over Bokuto's hand but Bokuto will still coo at it anyway.

"So what now?" He asks.

"Practice. Coach will kill us if we don't improve remember?" He cocks his head curiously when Akaashi feels his face fall, "What were _you_ thinking?"

He turns red, "Nothing, let's go back to the gym—"

"Kidding!" Bokuto sings, tugging his arms so Akaashi spins right into his chest. He leans down, eyes crinkling shut as he presses their foreheads together, "I just wanted to tease you. Do you think—"

"Oh my _god_ ," A voice says weakly. Akaashi and Bokuto spin around to see Komi and Sarukui standing several feet away from them with their mouths open, "Uh— Sorry to interrupt, I mean—"

"Konoha!" Bokuto elatedly yells, deafening Akaashi. Konoha peers out from behind Sarukui, eyes wary, "I have something I should have explained to you ages ago but guess what? He likes me too!"

"What kind of like?" Konoha waspishly asks, standing in front of them with his arms crossed, "Like or _like_ like?"

" _Like_ like," Akaashi says firmly to him. Komi and Sarukui are passing bills behind Konoha's back. Konoha seems surprised at his answer and even more surprised when Akaashi bows to him, "Thanks to you, I've managed to get my feelings across."

"Uh, you're welcome?"

"Apologize, Konoha. You were mean today," Bokuto prompts him.

Konoha apologizes for his words, wanting to find Akaashi to do so when Komi and Sarukui decided to tag along for the walk after Akaashi and Bokuto left the cafeteria. He hopes to be a better senpai to him, finishing his talk with his phone tilted towards Akaashi, showing PDFs of past Japanese Literature exams he pilfered from Fukurodani alums.

"I know it doesn't cut it but—"

Akaashi cuts him off, "Thank you, Konoha-san."

Bokuto beams at all of them, throwing his arms around Akaashi and Konoha as Akaashi holds Bokuto's box of milk, shuffling them towards the gym and saying how they have to make it up to Coach and flatten Nekoma in the afternoon rounds.

Bokuto leans into his side, loping one arm around Akaashi's shoulder as they share an umbrella on the way home. They pass a large English styled house with tall brick walls and ivy crawling up the side, bushes of hydrangea peeking out of the next house until they reach an apartment block.

"—Tsum-tsum says Myaa-sam wants you to come over and taste test a few new flavors. He got hold of this really famous natto person in Ibaraki and he wants to make a natto and white miso combination," Bokuto babbles as Akaashi digs in his pockets for his keys, swatting his MSBY scarf out of the way, "But then I remembered, do you even like natto?"

"I wouldn't mind trying anything Myaa-sam makes."

Bokuto hums. He hasn't aged at all since they graduated high school, went their separate ways to university and professional team and back together. He looks more than good at twenty-four, shoulders broader than ever, dearly loved by the hundreds of pictures in Akaashi's phone, "I'll text him then!"

When they reach the door, Bokuto is about to collapse the frame before he stands up straight, looking at him intently.

Akaashi laughs when Bokuto bats his eyes expectantly, leaning up and kissing him with the rain bouncing off the transparent umbrella, their breath coming out in faint clouds.

"Good?"

"Good!"

**Author's Note:**

> henlo friends, as always, please continue to wash your hands and wear face coverings outside


End file.
